Abelas
by Scamasax
Summary: An elven mage's confrontation with Alistar aften a unsuccesful meeting with the Dalish. The story focus on the fate of an elven mage in a world that either hates or fear both mages and elves. This is a one-shot until further notice.
1. Chapter 1

**Abelas**

"No, it is you who does not understand! Tell me Alistar, what am I?" I turned from the leaned position against the ancient oak and demanded an answer. For far too long had this topic gone free of discussion, ignored even, because for the unpleasant nature it held to the_ humans_.

At first it did not seem that Alistar truly understood my question, thought that was no fault of my own, the topic itself was easily discernible, even for him. So I waited, and placed my fate in the outcome that he would be diligent enough to answer. The old gods know that I do not possess the strength to ask that question once more.

"I believe you are right friend, I don't think I understand. As far as I know, you are the most skilled mage I have ever come across." It was an attempt at flattery I had not the patience for, especially not when it was accompanied by a disarming friendly smile that, in so many other discussions, had worked to his advantage. Not this time.

"Really? And where did you meet these other mages with which you compare me, might I ask?" I replied steadily though it took all the strength I possessed, to not give word of my disdain. As soon as the question was asked, I could see that something akin to understanding rose in his eyes, dim perhaps, but there.

"I was a templar… you know that." His sudden hesitation did not go unnoticed either. _Is the conversation turning uncomfortable for you Alistar? _I dared think, but I did not allow entrance for such shadows into this world by speaking the words aloud. I am not cruel.

"And what, is the primary function of a Templar Alistar?" Again, it was a simple question in itself but for the inevitable conclusion. It was almost impossible to ask without letting the words touch my heart again, as they had when I first came upon this realization. I breathed out and shut the words outside the fortress that I build to hide my heart. I had not the fortitude to deal with these words as well, not now.

"To guard the chantry and its pries-"

Unrelentingly I pushed forward. "I meant the primary function."

"… To guard the circle mages, and kill bloodmages and apostates." That was the root of my problem, my heart almost broke with the understanding, _that_ was main reason why this place was not home.

"In your guard duty Alistair, did you count mages as living creatures as yourself? I am well aware that we were never seen as equals by the templar's, so that is pointless to ask. But were we considerate as a people at least?" As much as it pained me, I saw the answer in his eyes in the moments before his worded reply came, which no doubt would have been a sugarcoated lie for my benefit. This was a typical act for Alistar and in times before this, I would count this as a well-meant attempt to shield me a bit against the cold hard facts. Now, I often wonder if it in turn also was protecting him?

"I –"

"Don't answer that, I see the truth in your eyes." I turned away, the wall of my fortress could not stand the assault of Alistar's confused gaze. What hurt me the most was the fact that he did not deny it.

"You say that you revere my skill as a mage? Yes?" his answer was prompt and reassuring, in short a quick nod accompanied by a comforting hand. It almost pained me to finish the sentence because of that hand. I am not used to deal with comfort, it is foreign to me.

"Yet that skill is what others hate, is it not?"

"You must not think such things!" The other hand joined its kindred on my other shoulder, effectively turning me towards him with his superior human strength.

"It is true that I once was a templar, _once!_ That is why I know that the mages have no choice in becoming so, you were born with it! You cannot take responsibility for something that you could not help." He was clearly agitated by now, but the fury that stemmed from him came not of anger, but by something that I could not read. Before I had a chance to look closer, it was already gone. He lowered his head so that only his light brown hair was visible to me, when he straightened the look had passed and back in place was the passive front. As much as I hated that barrier I could not blame him for it, he was trained to see mages as possible enemies rather than friends and equals.

I pretended for a while that that didn't hurt.

"So, you _are_ saying that being a mage is condemning, but that is forgiveable simply because I did not actively seek it out?"

A slight pause.

"Then what of my second nature, the one that was not by my choosing either?"

The burning sun bore witness to those words, as it sunk from this world in a few brave attempts to keep afloat, like the last desperate struggles of a drowning sailor in the oceans merciless hold.

"Second nature?" He finally asked still with his mask as a silent but visible defence.

"I am no human but an elf, and counted the less of it by all others." My back was to his now, my eyes were in the distance, not because I was thoughtful but because of the growing fear that rose in my chest and took a firm hold on my heart. Let him deny, I begged the old Gods, make it so that he of all people won't care about my heritage.

But I forgot that the Gods of old died long ago along with the kingdom of my blood kin, and that Alistar was brought up to believe that the fates of elves matter less than any other.

Or so I thought.

When he did not immediately answer, I turned to the place as to leave but was then soon held back by a firm but gentle hand on my arm.

"What have given you such dark thoughts my friend? I would never think less of you because you are en elf! I have seen all the gentle acts that you have committed, even to those who did not deserve that mercy!" The grip on my arm tightened and he pulled me into a quick firm hug, that kind you give to a comrade in arms in a show of comfort.

"I did not know that the meeting with the Dalish made such an impact on you, I reassure you that you are always welcome with me _elf_." He ruffled my hair at the last word, whilst keeping my head captive with his other hand, despite my loud protest. "You should be more worried about getting rid of me." With that being said he finally released my blond hair from his hold and I tucked it protectively inside my hood to keep it out of his reach.

"Now, I will go down to the fire and make us some dinner, hopefully there is a slice of cheese left. If you are not there in an hour, then I will track you down and drag you." He grinned, gave a mock salute and went off into the wilderness in direction of the campfire. The red glow from it could be seen in the distance.

I watched him go, relived and saddened at the same time to be alone with my dark thoughts.

Dear Alistar, it takes a hard heart to hate you, even if you more often than not twist you word for the listeners benefit. Do you honestly think that I did not notice? You words, and what was unsaid, still linger on in my mind.

'_I would never think less of you because you are en elf!'_

That was the words you used, good to know that you only hate my profession. I know that my words are bitter but I cannot help their nature, to far have I been pushed, to see them as any other than the truth.

I do not hate Alistar, I could never no matter what his lies, for he means well.

It is not his fault, he does not understand because he is _human,_ and humans _lie,_ more to themselves than to any other. That is the core of human nature I have come to understand, they are a not a fearful kind, but a hateful one, and they hurt what they hate. Though when all have been said and done, I cannot honestly claim that the ones I share blood with are any better, not after today.

What Alistar does not understand is that this place was my last hope of a home. I have nothing in common with the city-dwellers of my kind, whatever kinship there may be is overshadowed by their fear of me. The fear of a mage. My fellow mages look down upon me for being an elf, by the time of my harrowing, I was the only one left in the circle. Our Harrowing was often too early for us, though the Templars claimed otherwise.

Even here among the Dalish, I am not welcome they see me only as another outsider.

"Why am I in this world?" I asked the silence that surrounded me, not expecting an answer and therefore not receiving one.

"Why are the Gods so unnecessary cruel to make me as I am. I am a different kind of my own, an elf to a mage and a mage to an elf, I belong nowhere." I shook my head and stalled my entire being but then the question bust from my chest unwillingly as if my heart suddenly had robbed me of the control of my own lips.

"Why give me this fate?" I turned to the sun for answers this time. I do not know what spurred me to do this, for I rarely turn to the gods for aid. Whatever it was, it came with no gain. The sun was gone. The last faded lines of light had already been swallowed up in the dark sea that was the night.

I turned from the place and went inside the wilderness, preparing myself to meet my companions with a brave front that would not betray my inner thoughts.

I locked my heart inside its fortress and painted the walls in pretty colours.

**

Authors note:

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon age origins :(

Lately I have been suffering from a combination of an unusually persistent writer's block and an overload of work. Then suddenly this story emerges out of nowhere, and I could not help but to write it down. I know that it is rather depressing, but I could not help but ponder the fate of an elven mage in a world that hates both elves and mages. The gender of the charracter is undecided. This is until further notice a one-shot but I would nevertheless greatly appreciate any feedback you would provide :). It is possible that I will return to this story in given time, but for now I still have another story _'Just a Slytherin' _I have yet to finish and I should probably end that first.

Ps. The title is in elven, it means sorrow.

pps. All grammatic mistakes belong to me :)

- Scamasax


	2. Lethallin

_**Lethallin**_

"I will have to die?" The mere words each held a crushing weight that seized upon my heart.

"No… I will not lie to you, though a lie would be merciful compared to the truth." He hesitated, reluctance and regret was evident in his entire manner, he turned his eyes from mine and a cold hand tightened its grasp around my heart. Despite this I did not regret not calling out to Alistair to stay, when that grim secret was finally revealed to us after so much time. I did that for one reason, and one reason only.

From that very moment that the elder grey warden spoke those damming words, I knew what it was to be my fate. The sacrifice either a human king or an lowly elven mage… the choice was obvious. Yet now the bringer of my doom tells me that there is more… how could it possibly be any worse? A grim foreboding rose in my soul, my Ice blue eyes desperately sought that of the elder a gaze he did not return. How could it possibly be any worse than the burden that now was to be mine, what other cruelty did the 'maker' command?

What other than my life?

"You… will not be reunited with your kin in death." He breathed in deeply raising his eyes to meet mine for only a few seconds only to turn away again, but it was enough. I saw death in those eyes, a dark promise made by a divine being before the fall of my people. He struggled with the next words that were evidently to be spoken, but I could not wait for him to be ready to answer, for I felt the shadows around me tighten, darken as if it was a being onto itself, feeding on my fright.

"What. Do. You. Mean?" I asked, hesitating at each word because I did not want to hear the answer but still knowing that the question had to be asked. The elder looked upon me with the deepest sorrow that I had ever seen in a human's eyes.

"When the archdemon dies, its tainted soul travels to the nearest grey warden-"

"That I know." I broke him off, not willing to hear the grim tale of mine be spoken again… yes, _my _fate. The elder warden promised me in words that could not be found as any other than truthful that his intent was to spare me… _us,_ the fate of dying in such a fashion… but his body is weak. I can see that his soul is tired, a way that only a mage of considerable strength can see, it longs to return to the fade, too leave this world behind. The pains of the taint have pushed his soul to fight more to leave, and left the body tired and broken… no, he would not last long enough to defeat the archdemon. That must be left to another.

He knows this. He looked at me then for the first time during this meeting, really looked, and I did not like what I saw. He took my hand in a weak attempt at comfort, and though I never allowed such from any human besides the few of my company, I did not move away. Later I will wonder if it was due to the ill tiding I had just received or if it was the gesture itself that I welcomed… whatever it was, it matters not.

"The soul of the warden can stand against the archdemon soul, so that it is _forced_ to leave this world, but nothing more. After, the soul of the warden is destroyed and shall never reach the fade, it will… seize to exist." He lay his other hand over mine so that both my hands were now held by both his, in a protective gesture that I was not familiar with… and then, the true meaning of those words sank into my being. Somewhere in the corner of my mind I thought I heard someone crying. A horrible sound of heartbreaking sobs of a creature in the deepest of anguish… but there was no one in the room beside myself and the other warden, and neither of us wept. As I came upon this realization, the sobs turned into hollow echoes that then faded, and were gone.

"The grey warden that falls killing the archdemon, will never be granted peace, only the blackest of oblivion." The compassion in his tone was tainted with the thickest guilt the corrupted the words gentle nature. It tore a hole in my chest that immediately was seized upon by my resolve and buried beneath, in a place I myself could not enter, that very place was made for such a purpose. I could not help but feeling betrayed. So far, being a part of the grey wardens, even if the included only myself an Alistair most of the time, had given me… not a home, but a stand. Somewhere, where I wasn't an intruder, perhaps even… an equal.

A foolish thought.

"You must understand… to destroy something as cruel and tainted as the arcdemon, something of equal value must be lost. There is a… balance to be kept, an exchange of a kind, a pure soul for a tainted one." As he finished his words I could not help to disagree at this point. I knew my soul, my conscience, was not clean, not as much as I would like it to be. This was by no means an unfounded statement on my part, I had taken many lives in the past, some more deserving of the fate than others, I could not possible be a pure soul such as the one he was referring to. Strangely somehow that brought a blurry sense of relief.

"I have lied, stolen and killed in the past. I am not pure."I only said, he easily saw the true question in my doubtful expression and he moved to explain.

"Have you ever wondered why only some survive the taint, regardless of gender, race and age?" To that question I only nod, affirming his words.

"The blood is poison to us and therefore needs a more resistant host. In other words a person physically strong … Is that not so?" I had always taken this for a fact but now I hesitated, he sensed that in some way I know not for he continued soon after the suspicion crossed my mind.

"We chose our new recruits base on the impression we get of their soul rather than their capacity in battle. Only a strong good soul can survive the evil of the taint... and can only do so for a while." He hesitated, obviously wanting to conduct a brighter future, some relief in this dark fate. He battled with the words that resisted to pass his lips and that was for the better. I do not think I could bear yet another lie, another betrayal.

"I wish I could give you better news, young one. But I cannot refuse you the truth." And with that he left, not looking back a single time to see the creature that had just been condemned to death and bore it with a blank expression that reflected the innermost of its being. Not peace… never peace, not even in the next world.

The following moments passes on in a fog, I do not know how long I stood there, I it were minutes or hours. What I do know is that Morrigan was waiting for me when finally left the room.

I had only just left when Morrigan approached me with a distasteful offer, one I could not possibly agree to. The soul of an old god, in the body of a child… no. To agree to an arrangement like that… I do not know Morrigan's true character enough, that and the fact that I know see will fail if she tries. She does not know this spell properly, and she is too arrogant, too prideful, to find any flaw in her own planning. And I cannot forget that it was originally Flementh's wish that this ritual be completed and for that alone I cannot allow it. Besides, the child would not remain so for long, who is to say that it will not wish anyone harm?

I made a foolish attempt to reason with her, I should have known by know that 'reason' has not, does not and most likely never will exist in Morrigans world. At first I found her persistence, heartening, for lack of better term. Heartening because I never thought she truly cared that much, for she is a hard person to read. But then, after so much time together, she just left when it became obvious to her that I would not be swayed. I asked of her to stay, to little gain. I do not know who long I stare down that corridor after her, in a way I envy that. She could leave, whilst I have to remain shackled here in chains created by my own sense or morals, yet just as binding had they been made of iron.

Despite my best efforts, I could not help the tear that broke free of one of my burdened and hardened windows to my soul. The glimmering shard brought from unbearable pain trailed all the way down the cheek, then fell to the floor and was lost, gone from the world… as it soon was to be my fate, gone. No trace of it remained in this world of it but for the last dampness of the cheek it left. Would I only leave but one such a bleak but tangible mark, of my existence in this world?

I would not.

Turning from the place and my own grim reflections I walk steadily with a smile I painted on for the occasion should any of my companions cross my path. Only Zevran did, but just in passing as he was a little occupied with a 'conversation' with a rather beautiful elven maid. All others had returned to their room but I myself was aware that I would find no consolation inside a stone room. I had spent almost my entire existence surround by stone around, under and above me; I would not spend by last night likewise. Soldiers saluted as I walked past the great gate but I paid little heed to them as I walk down the hill to a small cluster of trees I had spotted from the wall earlier that day.

I pulled the robe a bit up so that I could step over a few fallen branches and then reached my goal that was the ancient oak, still in bloom after two violent battles, a defiant bastion in this land of the dead. It was at the roots of this ancient warrior that I sat alone.

A branch rustled behind me and I twisted in my seat with a start already with a spell on my lips before I recognized the source.

"Warden." Zevran nodded as he sat down beside me, after a few minutes of silence his battle hardened hand hesitantly reached out, as if from a great distance, and rested on my shoulder. I halfway expected that hand to sneak closer to other of my more 'interesting areas' but on my shoulder it remained a silent comfort. I leaned back and stared at the faraway stars, and for a moment all that surrounded us were the silence and darkness of night, and the glimmering echoes of the dead suns above.

"Why did you follow me Zevran? Your companion seemed quite eager. "To this question the assassin only shrugged.

"First Morrigan passes with an expression that could rival that of an unpaid antivan whore. Soon after you follow with an expression that would have fitted Sten better, it only surprises me that no one else noticed."

"I just needed some air Zev." Even as I said the words I knew that the skilled deceiver would not believe it.

"…You are many things my friend, but a good liar you are not, you would have made a _very_ poor assassin." That almost brought a grin upon my features but it was lost to the grim foreboding that had shackled my soul.

"Do you fear death?" I asked whilst I never removed my gaze from the dim stars above. I could not stop myself from asking this question though I knew in my soul that I should have kept my silence. Many things Zevran was, but he was not stupid, not by a long shot. But I needed to speak in order to ban the truth from my mind. After all what good would it do to dwell on that which would not, could not, change to something better? For a wonderful moment I imagined myself just standing up and leaving the grim place of death, and leave the final act for some other Warden. To be truly free, no tower, no blight, no more deaths and lies… such a wonderful thought.

"A heavy subject my friend, can I ask what brought it about?"

'_My friend'_ He said, and I brought myself back from the treacherous thoughts of desertion. How could I ever think, even for a moment, to leave them, _my friends_, to fight this battle alone? I must be the most disgusting of creatures in existence. If I left, at least one of them would die… Alistair. My heart filled with guilt that I did not allow Zevran to see. I forced my tone light and painted a grin upon my lips and lit a hollow glint in my eyes. Zevran was wrong, I am a very skilled liar, always was.

"If you recall, there is a rather large dragon that-."

"-Needs assassinating? I known, but we have already killed two, why would the killing of another cause your pretty face to wrinkle so? It is very unattractive." He crooked his head a bit to the side with a genuine smile praising his lips, though his eyes continuously sought my features for any falsehood.

"Can't have that." The grin that was returned to Zevran was not one that seemed false in anyway, fore it was not. Somewhat worried, but not false, but the slight frown upon the antivan blond's brow was a testament that he was not entirely convinced."I am just thinking too much Zev, as per usual." To that the assassin only nodded thoughtfully, as if that in itself was condemnatory. He leaned back against the oak, one hand still guarding my shoulders with a gentle grip

He did not say anything else, and for that I was grateful. For now it was just good _not_ to be alone this night.

Tomorrow would only come too soon.

End notes :

Finally bested my writes block enough to write this :). Apologies for leaving this hanging for so long, I have just had far too many things to do and not enough time to do it. This story will have one, perhaps two parts left.

The Title is elvish, it means "friend of mine"

Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon age!

P.s. All grammatical mistakes belong to me


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